


Dinner Theater

by StitchNLich (GallifreyanAtHearts)



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ciri is a goddamn lesbian, Coming Out, Family Drama, M/M, Parenting Drama, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Triss has a crush on Geralt, ciri is an angsty teenager, implied future Triss/ Yennefer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23654617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallifreyanAtHearts/pseuds/StitchNLich
Summary: Ciri is hiding something, Geralt is at a loss for what to do about it.  His most recent breakup with Yennefer leaves him hesitant to reach out, so he calls her best friend and his sometimes hookup, Triss.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 14
Kudos: 189





	Dinner Theater

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most self indulgent absurdity I've ever written. I'm enamored with That One Scene in Blood of Elves, and Triss Merigold owns my whole gay heart. I needed this out of my system. The Geraskier is pretty background but it plays a part in the story. I'm on tumblr at koshertaako.

Triss Merigold blinks at her vibrating phone, and shakes sleep from her mind as she picks it up off of her bedside table. The caller ID announces trouble, spelled G-e-r-a-l-t. She debates ignoring the call, but feeling like telling him off, she answers.

“Aren’t you and Yennefer back to-”

“No, we are not, thank you very much. Well, we were. Briefly. Anyway, this isn’t a fucking booty call, Triss, but thanks for the assumption.” Geralt says this all in a flat monotone, but Triss knows him well enough to know that he’s feeling something about the whole situation, even if she can’t quite tell what over the phone.

“Well forgive me, because it usually is a fucking booty call, Geralt. Especially at one o’clock in the morning, what was I supposed to think?” Her voice rises as she speaks and makes an effort to calm herself, if only to avoid noise complaints from neighbors.

“Triss, I-”

“Spare me, Geralt. What’s going on?” She rolls over in bed, onto her back, her mass of tangled, chestnut hair falling out of her face.

“Something is going on with Ciri. I’m at a loss, she won’t talk to me. She knows you, likes you. She’s hinted that she doesn’t want to say anything to me because I’m a man, and I’ve  _ told _ her she can tell me anything, but I think she’s embarrassed- I need your help.” Geralt’s voice is still neutral, but she knows he’s never neutral when it comes to his goddaughter, who he’s raised, alone, for most of her life. Triss softens, because she likes Ciri, and Geralt is a good father, and she knows what it costs him to admit he needs help.

“Why not Yenna?” Triss asks, but she’s already sitting up in bed.

“Are you saying you won’t help?”

“Of course I’ll help, Geralt. Most recent break up  _ that _ bad?” Triss knows where she stands with Geralt.

“You haven’t spoken to her?” 

Ok so she fucks her best friend’s on again/ off again boyfriend whenever they’re decidedly off. She’s probably a bad person, but he’s  _ gorgeous _ , and attentive, and so stupidly  _ sensitive _ , not that she’d ever say that to him, or that he would admit it.

It had started as flirtation, just curiosity, trying to understand what kept Yennefer coming back to a man she fought with endlessly, and seemed to antagonize more than care for. She hadn’t meant to sleep with him. The first time, at least. Anyway, she’s going to hell.

“Not in a while, actually. I mean I’ve texted her a bit but she’s been in one of her moods, hasn’t really wanted to talk. Now I get it.” 

“Triss-”

“Sorry, sorry. What’s going on with Ciri?”

“I don’t know, that’s the whole problem. I was hoping you’d maybe come around for dinner tomorrow? See if you can get her to open up?”

“Careful, Geralt. That sounds perilously like a date,” she teases, and stifles a giggle as he sputters.

“Fuck, It’s not- Jaskier will be there, anyway. He’s coming over for Ciri’s lesson.”

Triss sighs. She’d  _ almost _ been hoping, but the presence of Julian call-me-Jaskier Pankratz, Geralt’s best friend, precludes any romance. She doesn’t understand the friendship there, but they’ve been inseparable since longer than even Yennefer has known Geralt. She knows that her own distaste for the chatty music theory professor is largely colored by Yenna’s feelings about the man, but she’s honestly not spent enough time with him to have her own opinion. Really, most of what she knows about him is that a) he talks too much (much to Yennefer’s annoyance), b), Geralt cares deeply about him (much to Yennefer’s annoyance), c) he returns the sentiment (much to Yennefer’s annoyance), and d) he spends many of his precious free afternoons teaching Ciri to play violin, for the sheer delight it brings both of them (this also annoyed Yennefer, until Ciri sufficiently improved to suit her taste).

“I’ll be there, Geralt. Text me details in the morning.”

“Thanks, Triss.”

“Goodnight, Geralt.”

* * *

Dinner had been...odd. Geralt had said little the whole time, as he was wont to do, but he  _ had _ opened a midrange bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, which spoke volumes. Jaskier had valiantly kept up conversation with Triss, and tried to engage Ciri, who mostly sulked, but was now delightedly digging into her slice of the cake Triss had brought for dessert, and trying to hide her enthusiasm. Teenagers.

Triss thinks back to arriving, and presenting Geralt with the dessert, having been previously unsure whether to bring that, or wine. The main reasoning behind her final decision had been the inclusion of the underage person, though that Geralt was also notoriously picky about wine also factored in.

_ “Thanks for coming, Triss.” It’s hard to hear Geralt over the sounds of Ciri’s violin lesson.  _

_ “No problem.” She follows Geralt into the kitchen where he places the dessert on the table. With a glance toward the living room where Ciri and Jaskier are, he turns to her. _

_ “I just don’t know what to do,” he says in an undertone. She sees the grimace he fights back at the words. _

_ “Is it possible that she’s, you know, just getting her period or something?” Triss matches his volume, but doubts that the people in the living room would hear if they were to speak normally. _

_ “No!” Geralt says quickly and vehemently. “I spoke to her about all that  _ years _ ago. When she was nine or ten.” He sits heavily at the kitchen table, and gestures for Triss to do the same. She does. _

_ “She tells me when she needs tampons, or chocolate, or whatever.” He says angrily. “She knows she can trust me.” _

_ Triss winces. She knows Geralt’s anger is directed inward, at his own perceived failure. _

_ “She’s what, 14 now?” Triss says soothingly. “Teenage girls sometimes… You don’t like talking about how you feel. She might not, right now either. She might not  _ know _ how she’s feeling.” _

_ Geralt shakes his head. _

_ “I wish that were the case. It’s more than moodiness, something is  _ wrong _ , I can feel it.” He takes a deep breath and makes a face like he’s just been told he needs to have a large number of teeth pulled. “What if it’s something serious? What if she’s pregnant? Or on  _ drugs _? I haven’t smelled cigarettes on her, or anything, but-” he clamps his mouth shut, having voiced more of his fear than he had meant to. He takes another deep breath, still grimacing. _

_ “Why does she feel like she can’t tell me?” _

_ Triss wishes she knew what to tell him. _

They had sat down for dinner in the dining room shortly after that. Triss has tried to speak with Ciri a few times at the beginning of the meal, but Ciri has just glowered. Geralt had stared.

He’s still staring, in fact, wine glass gripped tightly in one large hand, but seemingly pleased with the fact that Ciri seems to be enjoying  _ something _ . Jaskier keeps looking sympathetically at Geralt, exchanging with him meaningful looks every few moments. Triss finds that after speaking with him most of the meal, she rather likes the handsome musician despite herself, which is  _ sure _ to annoy Yennefer. She swirls the dregs of her own wine, and decides to give it one last effort. Before she can, however, everyone at the table, herself included, looks up in surprise at the sound of the front door opening. She and Jaskier look at Geralt, whose brow is furrowed, rather adorably, and Ciri looks pointedly downward.

“Geralt?” Triss winces at the sound of her best friend’s voice from the entryway. She fights the impulse to childishly hide under the table. She hears the sound of Yennefer’s heels.

“She has a  _ key _ ?” Jaskier hisses, and Geralt can barely shrug helplessly before Yennefer is poking her head into the room. Her eyes briefly focus on Triss, who sees the surprise there, and suppresses another wince, but controls it. She hasn’t done anything wrong, this evening at least. Yennefer’s attention quickly turns to her ex-boyfriend, at the head of the table.

“Oh isn’t  _ this _ cozy.” Yenna’s voice is frigid. “The  _ dining _ room, Geralt, what’s the occasion.” She’s not asking a question, not really. Triss bites her tongue as Yenna’s gaze flicks back to her. “Triss, what a lovely surprise.”

“Good to see you, Yenna. It’s been what, a month? Six weeks?”

“You know how it is, darling, I was out of town. Needed a bit of time away.” Her gaze sweeps meaningfully to Geralt, and then around the gathered party.

“Would you like some dessert?” Jaskier asks cheerfully, and Triss suspects that he knows full well that Yennefer would never, that she would in fact find offense in the very idea of it. 

Yennefer does in fact look at him disdainfully, but does not otherwise answer. Ciri still looks determinedly at her plate.

“At least have a glass of wine, Yen.” Geralt says flatly. Yennefer turns to him as if remembering he exists.

“No, I wouldn’t want to… Interrupt. I only came to pick up a few things I left here.” She fixes her eyes back on Triss. “What are you doing here, darling, I didn’t think you were… Well acquainted. With Geralt.”

Triss swallows and longs to take the last sip of her wine, but does not want to give herself away to Yennefer.

“Geralt asked me… he…”. She looks meaningfully at Ciri, and Yennefer’s gaze follows hers.

“Oh, I see, Geralt needed a woman’s touch,” Yennefer says, drawing attention to Triss’ subtlety and Ciri looks up finally, glaring at first Yennefer, then Triss, and then her godfather. Triss once again holds back a wince at Yennefer’s deliberate double entendre. “Is something wrong, my dear ugly duckling?” Yennefer continues, needling the teenage girl, more than she needs to, in Triss’ opinion. Ciri has long outgrown the affectionate but not necessarily very nice pet name, but Yennefer continues to use it.

Ciri slams her hands down on the table, her fork, up until now gripped tightly in her white-knuckled fist, clatters against the wood. It strikes Triss that for a girl not biologically related to him, she looks an awful lot like Geralt.

“Is that what this is about?” Ciri screeches, in the drama of teenagerhood. She fixes her glare on Geralt. 

“I’m s- Cirilla I have been  _ concerned _ about you.” Geralt’s tone is even, but he’s pursing his lips. Triss knows that even if he  _ were _ more prone to emotional expression, he would  _ never _ raise his voice at Ciri.

“Oh for fuck’s-”

“Language, Cirilla.”

“For  _ fuck’s _ sake, if everyone  _ must _ know,” Ciri stands, her palms now flat on the table as she looks straight at Geralt, who for all appearance, stares calmly back. “I’m a  _ fucking _ lesbian. There. I told you.” 

Triss stares at the girl as she peels away from the table and strides towards the door. Even Yennefer seems at a loss for words. Triss doesn’t see how he gets there, but suddenly Geralt is between Ciri and the door. Before she can demand he move, he’s pulling her into a crushing hug, and burying his face in her hair, his premature silver falling around her ash blonde, the colors strikingly similar.

Triss hears the beginnings of a muffled protest, and then a sob, and feels hopelessly, tenderly awkward watching Ciri crumple in Geralt’s arms, wrapping hers around him. Triss looks away, remembering telling her own parents that she’s bisexual, and giving Geralt and Ciri as much space as possible in a room that suddenly seems a lot smaller. She makes eye contact with Yennefer, and sees matching tenderness in her best friend’s face. She smiles weakly and tries not to listen to Geralt whispering to Ciri that he loves her, everything about her, and nothing will change that, ever. Yennefer smiles back at her, no such qualms about listening to Geralt make declarations of emotions he prefers to show through actions. In her periphery, she sees Jaskier wipe a tear from the corner of his eye, and stand.

Triss turns to him, wondering what he’s doing as he approaches Ciri and Geralt, and Geralt looks up as well. She watches him meet Jaskier’s eyes, and then Geralt nods at something unspoken between them. Jaskier moves delicately around Ciri to stand next to Geralt. Ciri looks up at the movement.

“Since we’re doing this,” Geralt says, and Triss and Yennefer share a confused glance. “This has always felt like…” he pauses, and Ciri looks at him expectantly, tears still in her eyes. He takes a deep breath. “Like a weird thing to tell my… My daughter,” Ciri beams, and Geralt returns with one of his own rare smiles. “But you were brave, so I can be too. I’m bisexual.” Triss can see, somehow, that Ciri hugs her...Father, tighter, and buries her face in his chest again. Triss smiles warmly. She had known, because Yennefer had known, but her heart is endeared and she’s proud of Geralt. Yennefer appears to be, too. Jaskier pats Geralt on the shoulder, and Geralt looks at him, and graces him with  _ another _ smile, which, Triss thinks, might be a record for such a short period of time. 

“And,” Geralt continues, Ciri looks up again, confused, that this somehow goes on. Geralt seems to choke on what he’s trying to say, but Ciri waits patiently, used to it, and Jaskier squeezes his shoulder. “Jaskier- Julian and I, we’re-”

“We’re dating, sweetheart.” Jaskier finishes, impatient, and Triss’ eyes go wide. Yennefer rolls her eyes in disgust that Triss is only 90% sure is affected.

Ciri lets go of Geralt to step back and look between him and Jaskier, mouth falling open. And then she holds her hand out for a high five from Jaskier, who smiles and goes for it, only for her to pull her hand away, and then start laughing, and laughing. She’s still crying, laughing and sobbing all at once, hiccuping occasionally. After a moment, she finds the breath to speak.

“Leave it to you, Jaskier, to show me up when I’m fucking coming out.” She’s smiling though and wiping tears, and Triss can see the relief in the shift in Geralt’s posture. Jaskier much more visibly lets out a held breath and smiles warmly and holds out his hands for Ciri. She takes them.

Triss is still smiling, having been so focused on the family drama in front of her that she hadn’t noticed Yennefer walking around the table to stand beside her.

“This is what I broke up with him about,” she murmurs for only Triss to hear and Triss frowns, because Geralt is a lot of things, and maybe sleeps with questionable people (herself) while single, but she’d not thought he was a cheater. 

“No, not like that,” Yenna laughs quietly, knowing where her best friend’s thoughts went. “I was complaining about the Idiot third wheeling,  _ again _ , and he told me to stop, and I told him to just date the Idio- to date Jaskier, instead. I didn’t expect him to take me seriously.”

Triss giggles.

“So I suppose you’ll be taking credit for this,” she teases and Yenna sighs. She looks from Triss to where Ciri is now hugging Jaskier while Geralt smiles fondly at them. 

“I should at least get something out of it, because I seem to have lost a rather reliable fall back.” Triss knows that despite the annoyance Yenna is trying to project, there’s a longing in her eyes. She takes Yenna’s hand. Maybe she’s not been the best friend in the world, but Yennefer smiles at her, and Triss smiles back. She looks at Geralt, who is now watching them. She nods at him, and he nods back, and still holding Yennefer’s hand, Triss slips out of the dining room, leaving Geralt and his little family to their business. Yennefer locks the front door behind them, and drops her key in the mailbox with the satisfying clink of finality.

She’s smiling again, all for Triss.

**Author's Note:**

> This is in no way relevant or mentioned in the fic, but in my head Geralt is a vet who works with large animals.


End file.
